Old Friend, New Friend
by amythis
Summary: Frankie thinks of another way to get Tony.
1. Frankie

I almost made the biggest mistake of my life just now: I almost asked Tony Micelli to marry me. Don't get me wrong, I would love to have him as a husband. But it's too soon and I probably would've just frightened him away.

I know, it sounds weird to say it's too soon, when we've known each other forever. We grew up together in the old neighborhood. I remember him when he hated girls. I remember him when he was eleven and I overheard him bragging to Philly and Bobby and his other friends about French-kissing some rich blonde at summer camp. (Not at the Y Camp obviously, some camp across the water.) I remember him when he was swaggering around as a macho teenaged hood. And I remember him as a ball player in the minors who eloped with Marie Milano.

By then, I was working my way through college and I sort of lost track of him. I went back to Brooklyn sometimes and I'd hear of him, but he was mostly on the road and our paths never crossed. And then I won a scholarship to Harvard Law, and I went home even less.

And then I came home in time to help Pop out at this year's street fair. I don't know much about gelato, or any food preparation, but I did OK.

And there was Tony, at the neighboring booth, managing the kebobs. And we got reacquainted. He's changed a lot, all for the better. As boyishly handsome as ever, at 35, but more mature, more sensitive.

And now a widower. Poor Marie died almost ten years ago. Tony is raising their daughter Samantha alone. Well, sort of alone. But I'll get to that.

There was definitely chemistry between me and Tony, and I'm too old now for Pop to threaten to send me to a convent for considering dating Tony. So Tony and I danced and kissed at the street fair. And I ended up, well, renting him. No, not like that. They auctioned off his housekeeping services. Yeah, he's a housekeeper now.

Soon after Marie died, Tony's shoulder was seriously injured playing against the Mets. (This was before my firm started handling their account.) He had to retire before he was thirty. He didn't know what to do with himself for awhile. The Rossinis, who are almost like family to him, had him driving their fish truck for a couple years.

But, much as he loves Brooklyn, it's a rough place to bring up a kid, rougher than when we were kids. He wanted a better life for Samantha. And then, although he wasn't looking for a job like this, he found a chance to be a housekeeper in Fairfield, Connecticut. This was three years ago, and he and his daughter seem very happy there, although Sam, who's almost fifteen now, has completely lost her accent.

He lives and works for a rich blonde ad exec. On the plus side, that means he's comfortable enough with his masculinity now to not worry about whether or not he's macho. On the down side, that means he works for a rich blonde ad exec, who is incidentally good-looking, smart, and his best friend.

He claims they're just friends but I don't know. I mean, why would his employer bid on him when he works for her anyway? Yes, Pitkin Avenue Beautification is a good cause, but $100 for one weekend? I decided to bid $1000 and see just how serious she was. She let me "win" him, so I decided she wasn't as much of a threat as I feared. Or maybe she figured even Tony wasn't worth a grand.

I disagree. And, yes, he did a marvelous job with my East Side penthouse. But it was the services that I didn't pay for, the ones that he said were "free of charge," that I most appreciated.

It's very difficult to find men who aren't intimidated by my success. I certainly never expected to find one in Brooklyn. Even on the East Side, it's not easy. And then there are the ones who look down on me for being from Brooklyn. With Tony, none of this is an issue. So I guess I can be grateful to Angela, his boss, for getting him used to ambitious women. (She runs her own ad agency.)

However. Tony and I had just made love, and in the afterglow I was about to say something about making this permanent. When the phone rang. And it was for Tony. Angela, asking where he keeps the dish-washing detergent. OK, I know, she's not any more domestic than I am, but come on! She couldn't look in her own cupboards? Is she that helpless that she couldn't function without him for a whole weekend? Or was something else going on here?

And it looks like it's not going to be a whole weekend. After he hung up, he asked if he could use my shower and then head back to Connecticut. Well, what was I going to say? "No, Buddy, I own you for another twenty-four hours"? So I suggested we get together again in a couple days and he said sure.

I need to find out what the actual situation with Angela is. I mean, I don't think she has any claim on him, but for all I know she thinks she does. After all, they've been living together for three years, raising each other's kids, crying on each other's shoulders. I know that she used to work for a big ad agency and she only started her own at his encouragement. Like I said, best friends.

It does give me hope that it has been three years and nothing's happened. But maybe that means that Tony just doesn't want to get married again after losing Marie. I need to find that out, too.

My mind is made up. I could marry Tony tomorrow and be perfectly happy. But he's going to need time I think. We'll keep dating and I can prove to him that I'm the perfect woman for him. Not to brag, but I am a catch, especially for someone with Tony's tastes. I'm smart and successful but I love baseball and beer. And I'm not bad-looking and I have a sense of humor. He could definitely do worse.

Not that Angela is worse. I don't have anything against her really. I just don't want her being possessive of him when she's not going to make her move. Maybe she's gotten lazy, taken him for granted. I won't make that mistake.

But on the other hand, I don't want to make the mistake of coming on too strong, too fast. Even the sex was a risk that I maybe should've held off on. Tony used to be the kind of guy who believed, as most of the guys in the neighborhood did (and some still do), that there are girls you fool around with and girls you marry. But maybe I could be both kinds for him.

I think about how sometimes in court, I've charged forward, been aggressive, and it's lost me as many cases as it's won. I need to watch that. Because this is a case I don't intend to lose.

And then when Tony steps back into the bedroom, a towel hanging from his waist, I use all my self-restraint not to steer him back to bed. I think it may be time to consider a secondary strategy.


	2. Sam

Cher has recovered from food poisoning, so I'm going out with Elvis tonight. Elvis Esposito that is, son of Dad's friend Tiny. No, he's not fat like Tiny. That was Bonnie's first question. But I forgave her because she's the one who told me that Elvis's stepsister, Cheryl Moretti (daughter of Elvis's mom's husband), got food poisoning and the whole family went down to the hospital to watch her stomach get pumped. I was so mad about him not calling me, I ripped off the head of the teddy bear he won me at the street fair. But I sewed the head back on and now we're going bowling in Brooklyn.

I know, a week ago I didn't even want to go to the dumb fair. But I didn't know there'd be any cute guys there.

Dad met somebody, too. Well, re-met, since they grew up together. But she's like the one girl he didn't date before he got with Mom. Or after Mom died.

Francesca Candino was one of the few people in the old neighborhood to go to college. She worked her way through and then won a scholarship to law school. Yeah, pretty impressive. But she's not a nerd like poor Angela was and still sort of is. Frankie likes beer and baseball and apparently never went through an awkward stage. And she's beautiful in this really approachable way, the way Mom was, the way I'd like to be.

Not that Angela isn't beautiful. She is. I know Dad sees it, although it's not easy to get him to admit to anything about her. When I was younger, I used to imagine that Dad would marry her someday. I know Jonathan did, too, to the point that he even set them up on a blind date. Now, I don't know. It's been three years. How long does it take to fall in love with someone, especially someone you see every day, someone you live with? Maybe that's the problem. They just take each other for granted.

It's different with Frankie. It's not like Dad has kept in touch with her all these years. They have shared memories but from ages ago. I wonder if he might fall in love with her.

I'm not sure how I'd feel about that. Dad told me last year, when I asked if he's thought about getting married again, that he was really happy with my mom and he'd like to have that happiness with someone again. But he also said whoever he loves would have to love me, too. I thought that was his way of leading up to saying he'd like to marry Angela. But the only one who proposed to her in the next few months was, ugh, Geoffrey. Luckily she said no.

Anyway, I want Dad to be happy. I'd rather that that was with Angela, but you can't control who you love, right?

I like Elvis. He's cute and he's cool. I don't know if this will lead to anything big, especially since we live so far apart and he doesn't own a car, but I decided to give this a chance. And I haven't been bowling in awhile.

He meets me at the nearest subway station and then we head over to the bowling alley. I'm tempted to hold back, since it's a first date and I know from when I dated Todd that guys don't like it when you beat them at sports. (Dad got real competitive with Angela over mini-golf around that time.) But Angela's always telling me to be myself.

Luckily, Elvis is impressed when I beat him, although not by all that much. He says, "Well, now I guess I'd better treat you to dinner."

"Yeah, loser pays," I tease.

It's just pizza and a soda, but almost nothing beats Brooklyn pizza.

We're about halfway through when Frankie comes in! Well, maybe it's not that big a shock but I figure she spends most of her time in her penthouse or in court.

"Hey, Sam, how's it going?"

"Hi, Frankie." I introduce her to Elvis. She knows Tiny, since he grew up with her and Dad. (Yeah, and grew out more than anyone.)

"You want to join us?" I offer.

"No, I don't want to intrude."

"It's OK," Elvis says.

"Well, thank you. Just for a minute."

We end up talking, the three of us, for a few minutes, mostly about bowling. Then the friend she's meeting up with shows up. Frankie suggests she and I hang out sometime. I'd like that.

On the walk back to the subway station, Elvis suddenly asks, "You gonna be like Frankie? You gonna be a big-shot lawyer someday?"

"Well, I do like to argue. But I'm not that into school. I might do college. But law school? I don't think so."

He sighs. "Good."  
"Good?"

"Well, you know, you don't wanna end up like her, do ya? An old maid at 35?"

I thought Elvis was cool, but now I realize he's an old-fashioned Brooklyn guy. And Tiny isn't exactly a feminist, is he? Yeah, Elvis was fine about me beating him at bowling, but I get the feeling he wouldn't like it if I ended up making more money than he would.

"Well, I want a career."  
"Yeah? Doin' what?"

"I don't know yet."

He lets out another sigh of relief. "I guess working is OK as long as you don't ignore the kids."

I really don't want to get into this, especially on the first date. "Well, thank you for a nice evening, Elvis," I say and hold out my hand to shake.

"Uh, you're welcome." I think he would try for a kiss goodnight if we weren't in public. "Uh, I guess I'll see you around."

"Probably. Goodnight." I dash down and catch the first train I can that's heading towards the station where I can get the last commuter train back to Fairfield. This wasn't a rotten evening, but it was disappointing. Well, at least I can look forward to hanging out with Frankie sometime. I want to ask her advice about guys like Elvis. I could ask Angela, but who has she ever dated from Brooklyn? Dad doesn't count because they've never been on a real date. Besides, Angela's sort of like a mom. Frankie would be more like an aunt or maybe just a cool older friend who's not going to get all parental about things.

On the commuter train, I look for an old lady or someone else nonthreatening to sit by, as Dad advised me to. But honestly, the most harmless-looking person is this guy who's my age. He's kind of a cute in a nerdy kind of way (not Geoffrey-level nerdy but in that direction) and he's wearing a Ridgemont College T-shirt.

"You have an older brother who goes there?" I ask.

He looks up from the thick book he's reading. "Where?"

"Ridgemont?"

"Oh, no, I go there."  
"Oh, sorry. I thought you were about fifteen."  
"I am fifteen."

"And you go to college?" I was right, he is nerdy.

"Yes, I skipped a few years. Would you like to sit down?"

"Yes, thank you."

And we end up talking all the way to Fairfield. He's nice but not my type. I like guys with some kind of edge. This guy, Mason, is more the kind of guy Dad thinks I should date. I think the last guy I liked that Dad approved of was Bobby in sixth grade.

Towards the end of the ride, he says, "Um, would you like to go to the library sometime?"

Wow, that is the nerdiest request for a date I've ever gotten! Bobby included. "Um, gee, I'd have to ask my dad."

"Sam, you don't have to let me down gently. I know a girl as pretty and cool as you is out of my league. But Ridgemont Library has a lot of historical and architectural interest so I thought maybe—"

"Oh, the Ridgemont Library!" The campus library. I would be on campus. I would get a glimpse of the college scene. OK, it's not like it's a frat party, but it is part of college life. And I just started high school. Bonnie and Julia would be so jealous! "Yes, that does sound interesting. I'm sure my father would approve."

"Great!"

He wants my number, but I don't want him calling and having Dad answering. Or, worse, Jonathan, who would see it as an opportunity to make money and/or tell Dad. I get Mason's number and promise to call him.

Now I really want to talk to Frankie about guys.


	3. Mona

Am I the only one in this family who isn't blind? And, yes, we are a family, even if after three years Tony and Angela haven't got their act together and made it official. He may say he buys flowers for "the house," but I know what all these little gestures mean.

And yet, he's dating that woman, that lawyer! It's been a month now and shows no signs of ending. There hasn't been a threat like this since the Geoffrey Fiasco. In fact, this may actually be worse, because Geoffrey never really bonded with Jonathan, and Frankie acts like she's Sam's new best friend.

Yes, I've talked to Angela about it, for all the good it's done. She said it's important for Sam to have another successful female role model besides herself. Also, Sam can talk to Frankie about growing up in Brooklyn. And, I think this is the biggest appeal, Frankie remembers Marie and can tell Sam about her. Of course so can Tony, but Frankie's memories are different than Tony's. They were little girls together, playing hopscotch and jacks and all that.

This is why I can't talk to Sam directly about it. I would come across as an ogre trying to interfere with her precious friendship. I can't say that I think Frankie is using her in order to get a tighter hold on Tony. Sam would be hurt and insulted.

And then what if Tony does actually marry Frankie? I would've interfered with the stepmother-stepdaughter bonding. Angela claims that it's natural for a woman who cares about Tony to care about Sam, but all those other women Tony dated as a widower seemed positively indifferent to Sam. (Well, other than her sixth-grade teacher of course.) Angela has become like a mother to her, but not out of any ulterior motive. See, that's the thing. If this was a natural occurrence, well, I wouldn't be thrilled, but I would let it go. There's something so calculating, so lawyerly, about Frankie.

I almost blew my top when Tony told me he invited Frankie to the wedding. Lyle and Christy's wedding.

I got my hopes up last week when Sam and I walked in on Tony and Angela talking about romance and sparks flying. Of course, I should've known better by now. They were fixing up my niece Christy and the doctor who fixed up Tony's shoulder when he injured it playing for the Cardinals. To my surprise, Christy hit it off with Dr. Lyle and now they're engaged! I had no idea she was such a fast worker, but then it was only her fourth date, ever.

So now there's going to be a wedding in this house, but not the one I was rooting for. If Christy lets Frankie catch the bouquet, I'll strangle both of them. Of course, Angela caught her friend Isabel's bouquet last year, and that indirectly led to Geoffrey proposing, so maybe if I'm lucky someone other than Tony will propose to Frankie.

And, yes, Frankie is Tony's girlfriend, so I can't tell the best man that I forbid that woman to be at my niece's wedding. But I am going to have to find a way to break this up before I'm going to their wedding.

Meanwhile I'd better go upstairs and see if the blushing bride needs any auntly advice about the wedding night...

...Good Lord, even Angela wasn't that innocent at 30. Or 20. Well, hopefully the book Christy has will answer all her questions. I wonder if I should go grab an extra copy of _The Kama Sutra_ off my book shelf and wrap it up as a wedding present. No, there's probably not enough time.

I settle back on the couch between Jean-Claude and Pierre. Yeah, I have more dates for this wedding than Christy had dates in the '70s.

Tony is sitting next to, ugh, Frankie, who is of course as big a hockey fan as he is. We're all watching the game since the wedding's not till four. Well, everyone but Angela and Christy.

Then the game goes into overtime just as Angela comes downstairs to check on things. She does not look happy. I think I'm the only one who notices her storming back upstairs. I wonder if I should go with her. Well, I'm pretty comfortable where I am, between the two French jocks. Or is it Jacqueses?

Then a few minutes later she returns, chasing after Christy, who goes over to the groom and says, "Lyle, I'm ready to get married now." But he's too into the game to acknowledge her. So then she says, "Lyle, you're ignoring my needs. Sudden death is no way to start a marriage."

Ignoring her needs? Uh oh, that sounds like Angela-speak!

"Honey, could this just wait till it's over?" he asks.

"It's over," she says and heads for the door.

Angela tells her, "Christy, it's just a little delay. Don't do something you'll regret."

"No, there's a principle involved here. He's putting the most important day of my life on the backburner because of this Neanderthal sport."

Great, now she's quoting Angela to Angela! I get to my feet to put a stop to this, but Frankie is faster.

"Christy, Angela is right. Don't do anything you'll regret. Lyle is a great guy and you two seem perfect for each other. What if it turns out he's the only man you'll ever love and you lose him because of a silly misunderstanding?"

"Well, I guess that makes sense, but who the heck are you?"

"I'm Frankie, Tony's girlfriend."

"But I thought Angela was—"

Then Sam and all the guys, including the minister and the photographer, leap to their feet cheering. I guess we won.

Lyle rushes over to Christy and takes her hands. "Sweet-Cheeks, I'm so sorry about that. Will you please marry me now?"

"Well, I guess that's why we're all gathered here together today."

Tony beams at Frankie. Double ugh!


	4. Angela

When the school called and said that Jonathan was in trouble, neither Tony nor I questioned that he should go with me to the principal's office. Even if this relationship with Frankie seems like the most serious he's had since we've met, he is still Jonathan's almost-father. For over three years, he has helped me raise my son and has in fact spent more time with him than I have. Far, far more than Michael ever did. And he's a much better male role model, manly but sensitive.

Jonathan has always been a good kid, Mother would say too good. He's bright and polite. I was so proud when his teacher suggested he skip sixth grade and go into seventh. But it seems that he's not emotionally mature enough for junior high. He made friends with a bad boy named Walter, and together the two have been getting into all sorts of, well, mischief is too innocuous a word and crime is too strong. But they've been doing things like mooning the girls' gym teacher and snapping girls' bras.

OK, Tony's reaction to that wasn't exactly sensitive or enlightened. He claimed every guy snaps a few bras when he's Jonathan's age. It's so strange to think that when Tony was Jonathan's age, he kissed me, but, no, he did not snap my bra. It would not be as sweet a memory if he had.

I know, I shouldn't be thinking about that. He has a girlfriend, someone who knew him even before I did. And she's grown up to be his ideal woman.

But Tony and I are still parenting partners. He defended me in the principal's office. He said, "She's a great parent and a great mother. In fact, if I was to have a kid today, right now, I would want her to be the mother."

"Tony, that's so sweet."

"Well, I would."  
"Well, you would be a great father."

"You think so? Well, I have a few—"

"I do. I think you would be—"

"Would you two like me to leave?" The principal's words reminded us of where we were.

Still, that meant a lot to me. Especially since Sam has bonded with Frankie. Sam and I have gotten close over the past three years, but I'm not her mother. Or maybe I'm too much like a mother, not fun enough. Just like I can't compete with Frankie for Tony, I can't compete with her for Sam.

I know that our little unofficial family may break up someday. I don't need Mother's warnings. But what am I supposed to do? If Frankie makes Tony and Sam happy, then I'll have to let them go.

I wonder if that's part of why Jonathan is acting out. Yes, there's the adjustment to the new school and the premature pressures of adolescence, but could that part of it, too? Maybe he was hoping for attention, and maybe he was hoping that he could show Tony that he still needs a father figure. Not that this was necessarily a conscious scheme, but unconsciously perhaps that's what he hoped.

Anyway, despite the adjustment problems, I'm making the decision that Jonathan should stay in seventh grade. I gave him the chance to decide for himself, but I can see that he's still enough my little boy that he wants me to choose for him. And I choose the tougher path, because I love him and I want him to reach his full potential, not be too scared to change his life for the better.

Jonathan thanks me in relief and heads back upstairs. Tony tells me I did good, I'm a good mother. And then he says, "I want to tell you I meant every word I said in that principal's office today."

"Oh, Tony, I want you to know that I did, too." I did, I really did, although of course we can't have a child together, especially not with Frankie in the picture.

He moves around behind me and I expect him to pat my back. Then he says, "Because you know, I love snapping brassieres," and snaps mine!

For a moment I'm stunned that he would do that. And then I chase him up the stairs. I corner him at his closed bedroom door. "Don't force me to retaliate, Mr. Micelli!" I exclaim. Then I realize what I've said. What would I snap on him? His waistband?

"What are you guys doing?" Jonathan says, coming out of the bathroom, his hair no longer spiky.

And then Sam stands in her doorway. "Yeah, what's all the running and squealing about?"

"Nothing, Sweetheart," Tony says. "We were just fooling around. Uh, I mean."

She rolls her eyes. "Goodnight." She shuts her door.

"You two are so immature," Jonathan teases and goes to his room.

He's right though. Tony and I were acting like we were in junior high. But there was also an element of adult play, like when we had the flour fight in the kitchen a couple years ago and it led to a long, sexy kiss. If the kids hadn't seen us just now, I might've chased Tony into his bedroom or at least kissed him against his door. We should not be flirting like this!

"I'm sorry, Angela."

I can't read his expression. Guilty, yes, but something else. It's probably best if I don't find out.

I shake my head. "It was just harmless fun."

"Yeah. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Tony."

As I head to my room, I glance at Sam's door and hope she's not going to tell Frankie about this. I don't want Frankie to know anything that Tony and I said or did to each other today.


	5. Jonathan

"...Yeah, he's cute but he called me shallow. And there's this other guy, Chris Owen, who wants to go out with me. And he has a really nice car. Frankie, do you think I'm shallow?"

I can't help it. I snort. Sam glares at me.

"Well, thank you. Listen, let me call you back upstairs. It's more private. Goodbye." She hangs up and then starts to go over to the stairs, deliberately not looking at me.

"Sam, wait."

She turns but crosses her arms. "If you want to apologize—"

"Apologize? For sitting in my own living room?"

"You know what I mean. You're always like this when I talk to Frankie. What's your problem, Jonathan?"

"What's my problem? I'm not the one who's acting like an idiot."

"You're just jealous that I've got a new friend, an adult who treats me like an adult."

"No, she doesn't. She just tells you what you want to hear. You want to hear you're not shallow? She'll say you're not. You want advice on boys? She'll give you the advice you'd give yourself. You want to hear stories about Brooklyn and your mom? She'll tell you those."

"You are so wrong."

"Hey, if you want someone to agree with you, go call Frankie."

"God, you're almost as bad as he is!"

"He who?"  
"Jesse Nash. He's like Dad with a Greenpeace card, always thinking he knows what's best for me."

"Oh, that guy Tony tried to fix you up with?"

"Yeah, and Jesse had the nerve to—Well, never mind. And you're wrong about Frankie. She does tell me stories about my mom but that's because she knew her."

"So did a lot of people in Brooklyn. But I don't see you hanging on the every word of Philly Fingers."

"Philly doesn't know—"

"Doesn't know what?"

She hesitates and then quietly says, "She told me. She told me about how Mom agreed to elope with Dad. See, Dad was 19 and still in the minors. Mom had just finished high school. They had nothing. The team owner's checks were even bouncing. But they were in love, so when he asked her to marry him, she didn't even think about it, she just jumped into his arms and said yes. Then she yelled up to Grandpa Nick and Grandma Venetia—"

"Venetian? Like the blinds?"

"Venetia. Never mind, I don't want to tell you this story."

"I'm sorry, go on."

"So she yelled up to my grandparents on the third floor, 'Hey, Ma! Hey, Pa! I'm marrying Tony.' Well, Grandpa Nick thought they were too young and poor, even by Pitkin Avenue standards. But once my mom made up her mind about something, she was determined. She confided in Frankie that she was going to elope with Dad. Frankie thought Mom was crazy but she was happy for her."

There's something off about that story. I can see Sam's parents and her grandfather acting like that. Nick and Tony have never gotten along and I get the impression that Nick never thought Tony was good enough for Sam's mom. Tony will probably be like that with whatever guy is crazy enough to marry Sam someday. And I can definitely believe that Sam's parents would be that much in love. Tony seems like the kind of guy who when he does fall in love totally goes head over heels. (I used to hope he'd fall for Mom that way, but I think they've settled into this weird sort of not-quite-a-marriage thing without ever having gone through the romance part.)

What's off about the story is the Frankie part. "Why did she confide in Frankie? They weren't like best friends or something, were they? I mean, you never met her when you were little, before your mom died, right?"

"I don't know. I guess they were good enough friends. And Frankie could keep a secret. I think I'm the first person she's told that story to. She can't tell Dad, for obvious reasons."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Come on, Jonathan, it must be true. Why would she make up something like that? And I know Mom and Dad eloped because he's told me that."

I wonder if he told Frankie. And maybe some of the other details in the story. She could've made up the part about Marie confiding in her. But why? Just to tell Sam something she wanted to hear? To make points with her?

What is she after? Does she think she has to win over Sam in order to be sure of Tony? None of the other women Tony has dated have done this. Does she want to marry Tony? What will happen to our family if she does?

What will I do if I lose Tony and Sam? I know he once promised me that we'd be pals forever, but that won't be the same as having him here in the house, like a dad. And even though Sam can be annoying, she's like my big sister and I'd really miss her. So would Grandma. Tony's like her best friend and Sam's like the granddaughter she's always wanted.

And Mom, poor Mom! I don't know how she feels about Tony. I don't even know if she knows. But they're so close. And she treats Sam like a daughter. How can Frankie come in here and break us all up?

I want to tell Sam this but I can't. I'm not a little kid anymore. I'm in junior high. I've got to start watching what I say. Because I don't want to say anything I'll regret, something that will make things worse. If Sam thinks I'm attacking Frankie, then she's not going to listen to anything I ever have to say on the subject.

So I say, "I'm going to my room. You can call your friend back from down here." And I push past Sam and run up the stairs.


	6. Tony

When I came up here many hours ago, I didn't realize that I would need a place to be by myself and think. But if I hadn't come up here, then I wouldn't need a place to be by myself and think.

I wasn't looking for publicity for myself. I was trying to promote literacy and the Fairfield Parents' Association. When I was elected a couple years ago, I promised them and myself that I would be an active, innovative president, not like Joanne Parker, who just used the presidency to push her husband's insurance company.

But my marathon session on the billboard has generated publicity, and not just locally. Now I've been offered the position of National Parents' Association Coordinator for Special Projects, in Washington, D.C.! And, yeah, it's flattering and tempting. But how could I leave my life here?

Frankie saw the job offer since it happened on television. She called me (I've got a portable phone, so I'm not too isolated) and said she thinks I should take it.

"But won't you miss me?" I was sort of teasing but also trying to gauge how she feels. Sometimes she acts like she wants to marry me or something, but then she'll say something about how she loves her independence. We've been going out only a couple months, so I don't know how I feel. I mean, this is the most serious thing I've had since Marie died, but mostly I'm just seeing where it goes, not having any expectations.

"Well, we don't live in the same state as it is. And D.C.'s just four hours from New York. Even shorter by plane."

"Yeah."

"We could visit back and forth."

"Yeah, sure. If I were going."

"I think you should consider it, Tony."  
"I thought you were happy with me being just a housekeeper."

"I am. But you could do so much for this country's children if you took this offer."

She knows my weak spots. "Well, I'll think about it."

So now I'm thinking about it. I'm comfortable in my life in Connecticut, but maybe I've gotten too comfortable. Maybe it's time to take a chance again. But how could I uproot Sam? I moved her from Brooklyn three years ago and she's really settled in here. On the other hand, she could make new friends in Washington, maybe kids from all over the country, maybe all over the world.

But what about Jonathan? He's at a critical point now, almost a teenager. Yeah, he doesn't need to be babysat, but he's going to need advice about zits and girls soon. I can't just abandon him, right?

And what about Angela? Yeah, she could get another housekeeper but she needs me for so many things. And I'd miss hearing about the agency, watching it grow. And, OK, I'd miss all the day-to-day moments we share as friends. That'd be hard to give up.

But maybe I should. After all, I've got a girlfriend now. How much longer can Angela be my best friend? Frankie doesn't seem to be too jealous, but maybe it's not fair to her that I'm closer to another woman than I am to her. I can't help it. I share a life with Angela. But what if I didn't? What if I went to Washington?

I'm pondering this when Angela comes up, bearing consommé. It's not very good, but I appreciate the thought. We sit and talk for awhile and then she says she thinks I should take the job in Washington!

"Hey, Angela, you tryin' to get rid of me?"

"No, but I don't want you to regret missing out on a wonderful opportunity."

"Well, thank you." Now I'm really confused. Maybe she wouldn't miss me. Maybe she doesn't want me to stay. And I don't want to stay if she doesn't want me to. "But what about Jonathan?"

"He's in junior high. He's not a little boy anymore."

"Yeah, I guess. But what about you? How would you feel if I took the job?"

"I'd be proud."

I want her to be proud of me. It's just, I don't know. "Thank you."

"Well, anyway, I'll let you get back to your marathon and I'll—" She stands up and heads towards the ladder, but then she looks down. "Oh!"

"What?"

"It's just it didn't seem that high when I was coming up."

"Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Yes, a little."

Well, she may not think she needs me, but she does at the moment. I come over and put my arms around her.

"Thank you, Tony, that helps. Now if you can just help me down the ladder—"

"Angela, I can't do that! The minute I step off this platform, that's it, the marathon is over."

"I'm sorry."

"It's OK. You can't help having a phobia." I'm not sure what to do now. I mean, there are no rules about me having other people up here. Otherwise I wouldn't have had the news crew and my other visitors. But I don't know how Frankie would feel about Angela being up here in my arms, even if I'm just trying to calm Angela down.

"Can you get me over to the tent? If I had walls around me, I'd feel safer."

"Yeah, sure." I've got a little pup tent up here. I slept in it last night. I ease her over to it, one step at a time. "There you go. Just sit inside until you feel calmer."

She nods. "Thank you, Tony." She crouches down and crawls in. She zips the door closed from the inside.

Hopefully, she'll be OK after awhile and she can climb down by herself. I've seen her get scared before but she always rallies with a little support, from me or Mona, or even the kids sometimes. She'll be fine. Even if I left Connecticut, she'd be fine.

It's too dark to read now, unless I get out the flashlight. The city lights are coming on. It's really beautiful up here. I wish I could ask Angela to come out and sit with me, enjoy the view, but I'll wait till she gets her "billboard legs." (Like sea legs, only higher up.)

Then to my huge surprise, I get another visitor: Frankie!

"Hi, Tony, I thought you could use some company."

Oh boy! Normally, this'd be great, but what's she going to say when she finds out that Angela is in my tent? "Well, not that it's not nice to see you of course, but I've been enjoying the solitude. You know, a chance to think things through."

"Have you been considering the Washington offer?"

"Yeah, I've been considering it, but I just don't know. I'm needed here. I mean, not on this billboard but in Fairfield."

"Angela can get another housekeeper."

"I know."

"Or are you more than just a housekeeper?"

"I told you. She's my best friend. That's all."

"That's all," she echoes, somehow mixing sadness and sarcasm.

"Come on, Frankie, Angela and I have been through a lot."

She nods. "You two can still be friends if you move away."

"Yeah, I know."

She shakes her head. "Well, anyway, let's not talk about Angela or Washington. What do you say we go inside your pup tent and get cozy?"

"Come on, Frankie, I can't fool around with you while I'm doing the marathon!"

"Why not? One marathon wouldn't cancel out another."  
I'd be very tempted, but obviously my pup tent is occupied at the moment.

"OK, what do you say we just snuggle?"  
"Uh, well."

"Come on, Tony, it'll pass the time and keep you warm." She goes over to the tent and, before I can stop her, unzips the door. She gasps at the sight of Angela lying on top of my sleeping bag. "Or maybe you're not having any trouble keeping warm."

"Frankie, this isn't what this looks like," I say.

"Really? Then what is it?"

Angela emerges from the tent and says, "I got a little dizzy when I tried to climb back down. After bringing Tony consommé."

"You don't cook."

"Oh, you just take the bouillon cubes for—Well, anyway, I just needed to lie down until the dizziness passed and I'm fine now, so I'll just be go—"

"Hold on. Why were you dizzy?'  
"Well, I'm afraid of heights."  
"Afraid of heights?" Frankie crosses her arms. "Don't you fly all the time for work?"

"Well, yes, but I do have a phobia about it."

"Yeah, you should've seen her when the family went to Mexico. She went through three barf bags on the round trip."

Both women look at me and I realize I'm not helping.

Then Frankie looks down at Angela again and says, "That seems like a very convenient phobia."

"Ay-oh, oh-ay! Why would Angela lie about being scared?"

"Maybe she doesn't want to lose you. Maybe she thinks if she seems weak and vulnerable, you won't leave her."

"You're wrong. I don't want Angela to be weak and vulnerable, or scared. I just try to help her feel strong and brave."

"You do, Tony. You always have." She gets to her feet.

"Then I guess you won't be able to manage without him if goes to Washington, will you?"

"I would miss him terribly," Angela says, sounding like she's going to cry. "But I want him to pursue his dreams, find happiness wherever he can."

"I'd miss you, too," I admit. "And I'm happy here. I've got everything I want."

"But what if—?"

"Excuse me," Frankie says. I look at her guiltily, suddenly remembering she is my girlfriend. "Why don't I leave you two in peace so Angela can manipulate you without an audience?"

"Angela is not manip—"

"Yes, why don't you go visit Mrs. Rossini? Maybe she can give you another 'Marie story' to rip off to impress Sam."

"Excuse me?" This time Frankie sounds both indignant and scared.

"A 'Marie story'?" I say. "To rip off?"

"Yes, like the one about how Marie confided in Frankie before she eloped with you."

"Frankie was off at college by then! And they were never that close. The only person Marie told ahead of time was Mrs. Ros—" I break off and stare at Frankie.

"That's not how it happened. I did talk to Mrs. Rossini, but Sam must've misunderstood—"

"You lied to my daughter."

"I didn't lie. I just wanted her to be happy."

"You can't build happiness on a lie. Goodbye, Frankie."

She looks like she wants to argue. She's good at arguing and persuading. She is a lawyer after all. But she sighs and says, "Fine. But do everyone a favor, Tony."

"What's that?" I have to ask.

"Stop advertising yourself as single when you're not."

I stand there speechless as she descends the ladder and goes out of my life, presumably forever, or at least till the next Pitkin Avenue street fair. Then I look at Angela, who's smiling a little.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Maybe she thinks you're still mourning Marie."

"Well, I miss Marie of course. And I would never get married again unless I was sure."

"Unless you were, you were in love?"

"Yeah." I swallow. "So how are you feeling? Do you want to head down?"

"I think I need to lie down again. I feel a little overwhelmed."

I nod. "Me, too."

She smiles more. "Well, it is a two-man tent."

I find myself smiling back. "With a two-man sleeping bag."

"Too bad I'm not a man."

"Hey, you can do anything a man can do."

"Well, most things."

"I'd rather snuggle with you than a man anyway."

She gives me a look like I haven't seen in months, not since the night I decided to move back into the house from Mona's apartment. And then she crawls back into the tent. I hesitate and then crawl in after her.

It's a warmer night than I expected and I find that solitude is overrated.

THE END


End file.
